


Laughter

by vampirecatprince



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Character Study, Erik Has Feelings, F/M, Not Beta Read, Poor Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-07 01:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18227876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vampirecatprince/pseuds/vampirecatprince
Summary: Erik makes an uncomfortable revelation while spying on his beloved.





	Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> Ah- the first fic I've posted in years oops. But I felt inspired after seeing the show on Broadway and wrote this on the plane ride back home.
> 
> This little plot bunny did not go where I was planning it to and took an abrupt left turn into being short character study. I might try to add more later on, with actual character interaction, but if I do I'll be making it a series. Honestly, this feels good as just a short little one piece.

Erik gave a frustrated huff, turning from the small opening in the wall he had been looking through.

Despite his best attempts, through various acts ranging from being a mild annoyance to outright murder, he had yet to dissuade his young, _naive_ protege from seeking out the arrogant and selfish Vicomte de Chagny. It had been two months since he had put down his so innocently defied decrees about Il Muto and with the impending deadline of opening night looming upon the horizon, he was growing increasingly frustrated at the girl's attempts to defy him. Yes, she still allowed herself to be his pupil, but he had been becoming increasingly aware of her growing reluctance and he had only the damned dandy to blame as far as he was concerned.

He supposed they thought that the two of them were being covert, but he was entirely grateful that what interactions the two of them had seemed to be mostly innocent in nature. While he wanted nothing more than to tear her away from him again and keep her for himself, he had to be... delicate about the situation. He had a vague awareness that the harder he tried to cage her in, the harder she would beat at the bars of her metaphorical cage. But alas, if he wanted his little songbird to sing, she had to be allowed to wander her cage and see glimpses of the world through its bars. She had to forget the gilded cage he had built for her.

He had been observing the two of them through a gap in the wall's facade and seemed to be caught up in stories of childhood or white noise about whatever gossip seemed to have been swirling around the actors or crew at the time. Erik watched the two of them for quite a little while before he had to back away in frustration. He envied how the two of them seemed to simply be able to talk about everything and nothing altogether and while every time Christine gave a giggle at something the damned peacock in front of her said he felt a stab of white hot jealousy ripple through him, he had to admit that he was far from a skilled conversationalist.

In fact, he would have to begrudgingly admit that casual discussion was one of his worst skills.

It was simple for him to convey his thought through music. For him to talk about music. But conversation anything else keenly brought into sharp relief how much of a damned soul he felt like. The few times that his little songbird had tired to make casual conversation with him early into their relationship had been met mainly by awkward silence and Erik desperately wished he knew how to talk casually, but so much of his life had been taken up by singular intense passions that he simply didn't understand the point of casual conversation at times.

He huffed again, stealing away from the little cranny that he had worked his way into and began the decent down to the lake. Erik had originally been tempted to cause some sort of "accident" in order to break the two of them up, but every time he heard Christine laugh he had stalled.

It reminded him of the twinkling of little bells in the best way and the sound always made little shivers of delight run up and down his spine. He wished he could translate that light twinkling tone into his music, but whenever he tried, his memories turned everything discordant and sour when he tried to transcribe it, leaving only a stab of violent loneliness as a reminder.

... He had stopped trying to record her tones a while ago.

Erik paused at the shore of the lake, staring into boat blankly. He was trying to remember her laughter and it was mixing with the Viscount's in his memory.

And he swore if he thought about it hard enough, he could hear himself there instead.


End file.
